


Repercussion

by Akaisha_Loire



Series: Pen pals are the Best pals [1]
Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Madison's not so A++ parenting, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 08:37:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16238015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akaisha_Loire/pseuds/Akaisha_Loire
Summary: She just knew this was the time she’d have to sit back and wait for the call. She knew. Knew in her hearts of hearts that she was going to get nowhere this time. A part, rather large in size, blamed that Troy her son had been writing to.Madison POV - sequel to Decision





	Repercussion

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the second installment in the Decision Arc (should I call it that)? I hope you guys enjoy it. If there's interest I'm definitely considering writing the part in between this one and Decision, of Trick's life on the ranch. Let me know what you think at the end!
> 
> Additional warning, this fic contains real subject matter in the form of a child voluntarily choosing to no longer communicate with a biological parent. Having cut a biological out of my life, myself, I felt Nick would have a very real want to disconnect from Madison, as such this fic delves into the parent's perspective of a child ending communication.

“What do you mean he’s gone?!” Madison was having an aneurysm. She had never had one before, but the pulsing pressure behind her skull was probably what it felt like. 

 

“Ma’am, nobody at Sunrise is a prisoner,” the receptionist said. “As long as the patient can prove they are of sound mind, anyone is free to go. Mr. Clark wasn’t a danger to anyone..”

 

“Except for himself!” she shouted, drawing the attention of patients, and orderlies, meandering in the halls. There wasn’t a word in the English language to describe how mad she was. “It’s your job..”

 

“To give him the tools to help himself towards healthy living. Nick, backed by his therapist, made the choice to leave, and--”

 

Madison didn’t want to hear anymore, she stomped out of the facility, slamming their immaculate cherry wood door for good measure, hoping the glass would break with the force.

 

She sped home, doing 80 the entire way, essentially putting her middle finger to the posted signage that told her the limit was 55, or 70 for the brief time she was on the freeway. A part of her way hoping, praying to any god that was listening that Nick had come home, had wanted to be somewhere familiar.

 

She raced into her home, leaving the door open behind her, startling Travis who was still on the couch grading papers where she’d left him. She tore into Nick’s bedroom, finding it the same as it always been. Band posters on the wall, hung in diagonals, a style of kids in the 90s, she thinks. His books, his CDs, his movie collection are all untouched, his bed still made from when she’d done it. The sad thing is, she even checks his drawers, his closet, until she realizes, she’d have no idea if Nick had come and took clothes.

 

“Madi, what’s wrong?” Travis asks, and now she’s in panic mode; there’s no sign that Nick has been here.

 

“Nick, he’s gone, again,” she dispairs, and Travis, sweet Travis, goes for the phone to call the police. She has to stop him, because it’s no use, she’s called them five times previously in the past when Nick had run off, only to find out he’s holed up in a drug den, and the most they can do is hold him overnight, but they can’t force him to go home.

 

There was nothing she could do short of driving the streets all night trying to find him. She knew he had a close friend, Calvin, that she had an inkling was his dealer, but never had evidence of it. Travis, attempting to be even more helpful, tried to give her more options of what she could do, as if this was her first foray into dealing with a drug addict. “Look, you’ve never raised a junkie child, so please, just back off,” she snapped, Travis took a step back.

 

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, Travis, I’m sorry, I just….”

 

She just knew this was the time she’d have to sit back and wait for the call. She knew. Knew in her hearts of hearts that she was going to get nowhere this time. A part, rather large in size, blamed that Troy her son had been writing to. Like lightning, she gets an idea to call the San Diego PD to be on alert for her son; she never gets a call back.

 

-

 

732 days, she counted every one of them.

 

She’s always wondered how mothers who lost a child could cope, and she now had her answer; they couldn’t.

 

She’d seen those news reports, reports like Natalie Holloway, and how they never found her or a body and they were just left wondering. Lost in this time, this space, where they had only one tiny memory to cling to, of the last moment they saw their child. Madison always thought she’d hate to be in their position, how could life go on, and now she had an answer to a question she wished she’d never asked.

 

It was damn near impossible, as if time had stopped, refusing to inch even one second onward. A veritable Dali painting, melting, unmoving, for the rest of her days. She didn’t touch Nick’s room, just kept the door closed, snapped at guests when they asked what was behind that door. She marked everyday she didn’t know what happened to him with a black star on her calendar, and despite Travis’ urging, she didn’t throw away those calendars.

 

Every holiday, Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, Alicia was there, her mother, Marian, was there, even Travis’ son, Chris, was there, but not her Nick; her first born. 

 

She knew what everyone thought of her, that she was taking it to hard, that she needed to accept the inevitable and move on. She could see the annoyance, the look of disdain in Alicia’s eyes, as if to say Nick was still more important even after he was gone. They couldn’t convince her to declare him ‘dead in absentia’ she had seven years, and only two were down, she’d keep looking.

 

At the very least, life went on for everyone else. Travis didn’t leave her despite numerous marital problems--they got counseling. His son was getting ready to go off to college next year, and was working tirelessly on his applications. His goal was UCLA but he had back ups in California State, and University of Southern California. Travis told her Chris wasn’t sure what he wanted to study yet, but he was really inspired by his mom, Liza, who went back and got her nursing degree.

 

Alicia was prospering at Berkeley. She’d moved on from Matt, or Matt moved on from her, if Madison understood correctly. When it came down to it, Matt felt Alicia was to good for him, she deserved better than what he had to offer, and thought it was time to let her go in favor of something bigger. Alicia cried for a week, according to her roommate. Madison remembers the vexation over Alicia crying like that over a boy but not her brother. She’d harshly told her daughter to toughen up; they didn’t speak till Christmas after that.

 

Alicia did move on though, to an older man, named Jake, who was doing a talk-in for the law students. As Alicia tells it, it was a romcom kind of meeting. She’d been running to class when she’d bumped into him, dropped her books, and ended up late for the class in question. He gave her his number for apology coffee and the rest was history.

 

She’s happy for her daughter, she really is. Jake is an amazing man. He’s stable in work, and financially and will offer Alicia a good life. It doesn’t change the fact that her missing brother still looms over Madison’s head everyday.

 

Madison participates in functions, like fourth of july.

 

She barbecues and meets Jake for the first time. He’s tall, sturdy, well dressed and kind. He has a younger brother, and his father is recently deceased; Madison offers her sympathies. Jake is a partner at a firm in San Diego, while his younger brother runs their family ranch, a generous sized 275 acre bit in South San Diego, almost budding up with the Mexican border.

 

Coincidence, her mind says, trying to pull at something in the back of her memories.

 

A ranch in south San Diego felt familiar, like she’d known someone else with a ranch south of San Diego. Granted, a lot of people probably had ranches down there but it hit her, like an arrow in the back, why that made her pause. Nick’s pen pal, Troy, had said he had a ranch in San Diego that he worked with his father, that’s where he wanted Nick to move. “Do you know a guy named Troy?” She asks offhandedly, Alicia narrowing her eyes in a ‘dont’ look.

 

“My brother’s name is Troy.”

 

“What?” Madison asks at the same time that Alicia exclaims, “Really?!”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Does he have a friend named Nick?” Madison demands, grabbing onto Jake’s shirt. To his credit, he’s startled but remains calm, eyes wide as he shakes his head.

 

“Troy isn’t very sociable. I only know of one person he was “friends” with, a guy named Mike, but I’ve never met a Nick.”

 

“How about two years ago? Did he know a Nick then? Can you call him? Ask him?”

 

“Mom,” Alicia scolded, Jake waved her off, telling her it was okay. Clearly Alicia had filled him in on the tordid history of their family.

 

“He’s probably asleep, but I can try? If that will help?” he offers, leading Madison inside for quiet, digging out his phone. It doesn’t take long for Travis to find his way in, probably directed by Alicia to stay at Madison’s side as Jake dials. The phone rings a total of five times before going to voicemail. “I’ll try the landline,” he offers. “It's used for business.”

 

He dials that number, Travis’ hand goes to hers.

 

It rings only three times before a groggy voice answers, “Hello?”

 

“Hey, Troy, it’s Jake.”

 

“What’s wrong? It’s after seven, I was in bed…” Troy says, and Madison remembers that voice, she’d met the man just before Nick disappeared. It was the same Troy.

 

“Yeah, I know, I’m really sorry to bother you. I’m actually at my girlfriend’s house, Alicia, I told you about her..”

 

“White girl, nice rack,” Troy says, and Madison glares at Jake who flushes, denying that he ever said that, his brother laughing as if it were a funny joke to make. “Okay, yeah, you’re at your girl’s..?”

 

“Well, her mom seems to know you, asked if you knew a guy named Nick? A friend of yours?”

 

Troy doesn’t even pause to contemplate the question, nor is he quick to answer, and just intones, “Nope.”

 

“You do!” Madison rebutts, grabbing the phone. “I remember you! You were at Sunrise! You were Nick’s penpal, he talked about going to San Diego with you! You’re that Troy.”

 

Again, that same careful moment, no hesitation to suggest Troy is lying or concocting an answer. “Sorry, ma’am, you must have the wrong Troy. Never met a guy named Nick and never done a penpal thing..”

 

“You’re lying!” she pleads, desperate, feeling this is the closest she’s been to her son in years. “Tell me where he is. Is he dead? Tell me!”

 

“I really need to get back to bed. Jake, I love you. Ma’am, I’m sorry for your loss, I hope you find your son one day,” and with that, the phone clicks off, slamming the door on the first lead she’s had since the last family day at Sunrise. 

 

-

 

She goes back over everything she has.

 

Gloria was forthcoming, told her that Nick went off to San Diego three days after that family day. She remembered him packing up, telling her he was starting a new life. Madison wishes to God she could ask for more, anything, from Gloria, unfortunately, the young girl OD’d not even three weeks after Madison talked to her.

 

She knew he took the Pacific Surfliner down to San Diego, had even gone so far as to go to their offices to try and get information. Naturally, they weren’t willing to give out personal information, but she found out, from a security officer, that there were roughly five passengers fitting Nick’s description that booked on Amtrak; none of them under the name Nick Clark. Two of them departed on the day Gloria mentioned Nick left, going from the UCLA Westwood Station to San Diego Downtown, but it was the only thing she had to go on. After Amtrak there was just nothing. No uber, or Lyft, if he’d called a taxi or Troy--she was convinced Troy helped her son disappear--then there’d be no record of him.

 

Jake, a very good man, told her that Troy did stay at his apartment in Downtown around that time, for roughly a week, but Jake wasn’t aware of anyone staying with him. “Troy can be very sporadic. I never really know his motivations, and he has a key…”

 

She has renewed hope.

 

Alicia doesn’t understand. Travis can’t comprehend it, but as the days click by, each slower than the next, she feels like she’s getting closer.

 

-

 

“....Halloween festivities…” Jakes explains, and Madison shakes her head, as she hadn’t been listening to a word he said. Jake smiles, placating, elaborating. “My brother enjoys Halloween. Our father was a doomsday prepper so we have tons of these buildings, bunkers, as it were, on our property, so Troy has come up with a haunted overnight ranch campout. It’s really a great way to bring in extra money, and he’s working with the local reservation too, donating part of the proceeds to the local Tippai-Ippai.”

 

Madison blinks. “I’m sorry, what is it?”

 

“It’s like that campout thing they did here in LA, mom,” Alicia tells her. “But more survivalistic? I guess? Troy was asking if we’d come down, check it out, a preview night kind of thing. He invited us, and Chris, Travis, even Chris’ mom is she wants to go. Their first official overnight is next Saturday so I thought this would be fun. I know horror isn’t your thing…”

 

“I’ll go!” she decides, jumping at the chance to get down to the ranch, to find clues about Nick, to see this Troy in person. This could be her big chance.

 

-

 

The event, as it turned out, went like gangbusters. Alicia showed her the website, a haunting ranch sign declaring Broke Jaw on the homepage, below which, the nights for the event were listed. Halloween night was sold out. It had apparently sold out so fast they opened up slots for one last one the weekend after Halloween which sold out just as fast. Most of their dates between now and Halloween were down to limited availability, and several dates had wait lists, in case someone dropped out.

 

It’s thorough, instructing people to bring only their survival gear, rations, things they need to survive an apocalypse. There’s an introductory video, a man in fatigues, wearing a helmet, holding a modified paintball gun, explaining what they’d find in their cabins, things like matches, or flint, some even have weapons hidden in them, it’s up to the players to find their gear, and not to forget, playing nice isn’t always to their advantage. 

 

Even with all the gear, Madison recognizes her son. The man in the video is Nick, there’s not a doubt in her mind about it, he’s at that ranch, and she was going to it.

 

It’s Travis that drives them down, Chris tags along, Liza opts out, not really up for having the shit scared out of her. Jake, knowing his brother better than any of them, suggests they take the thing seriously, buying canned goods and water, iodine tablets, real survival gear, because Troy wouldn’t play nice just because it was a preview.

 

The entrance to Broke Jaw is a gate, the sign is hanging loose, which Jake says has to be part of the ambiance because Troy was a stickler for that sign. They can’t pass till someone comes down to open it for them. They’re instructed to drive up to the main house, and Jake guides the way to park up next to it. Madison all but leaps out of the car when the man she knows as Troy comes sauntering out, dressed in fatigues, beaming. “Welcome, guests!”

 

She waits, bouncing on her feet, rocking from toe to heel, looking around, waiting for Nick to follow out, but nobody comes. “I’m sorry,” she cuts in, before Troy can start a rehearsed spiel. “I need to use the restroom before this all gets started. Can I…?”

 

“Sure,” Troy smiles. “Straight in, second door on the right,” he instructs, walking off the porch to greet his brother. Madison runs into the house, or rather, briskly walks in, not sparing a moment to start looking around while simultaneously not lingering with in view of the people outside.

 

The ranch house is modern, clearly recently redecorated, she knowns new hardwood when she sees it. Not only that, the black couch looks sleek, and new, with no wear or tear that comes with people plopping down on it, no indentations from regular use. Suspiciously, she doesn’t see a single picture on the walls, but there are nails where pictures use to hang, almost as if they’d been taken down with the anticipation of her coming inside. She goes into the bathroom, looking behind the shower curtain, finding axe body wash and a beeswax brand shampoo, as well as an organic goats milk product, none of which were Nick’s regulars.

 

There are two toothbrushes in the holder, one green, one blue, but it was easy enough to write off as Troy not throwing his old one away. Nothing hints to Nick being here, yet she knows he has to have been.

 

She stays a moment before walking back where Troy is laughing at something Jake has said, and greets her with open arms. “I’ve condensed everything for preview, but it’s simple, every camper gets one life, and everything is randomized. Each camper will wear two paper wristbands, one black, one blue. If the black is taken, that means the camper is dead, they’re out of the game, in which case they can use the big tent for rest,” he motions off to a big white tent in the distance. “Blue means bitten, or scratched, which means they can either run to the medical tent,” he motions to a red canopy, or attempt to rectify the problem themselves. To keep everything honest, our zombies are wired with headsets, when they snag a blue, they radio back to staff who give the players five minutes to act or mark them dead and will then go into the field to take them out.”

 

Madison listens for all of five seconds. There are people lingering around, some already in make-up, drinking water, talking, chatting. She looks at everyone of them closely, trying to find Nick among their masses. One is to tall, the other the hair is to short, there’s something wrong with each of them, but she knows, just knows, Nick is here on this ranch, somewhere.

 

She doesn’t even know what the rest of the rules are. Travis tells her that she’s in bunk two, with him, Alicia is with Chris in bunk one and Jake is flying solo in bunk five.

 

Madison breaks off from them, grabbing the first group of teens she can, whispering low to them, so no one hears her, thus thinking she’d lost her mind again. “Do you kids happen to know a Nick? Nick Clark?”

 

They look at her for a moment before shaking their heads to the negative. The one girl in the group says, “I do know a Nick. Mr. Larotto, but he’s not here right now, he’s at the rez with Walker, running over the specs for Saturday.”

 

She sighs.

 

Another sigh echos hers, she turns, and Alicia is standing there, arms crossed. “You’re not giving up, are you?”

 

“Alicia..”

 

“Is the only reason you came to this was to find Nick? You couldn’t come just to have fun with your family?”

 

“Alicia, I am….”

 

“Nick left!” Alicia exclaims, stomping her foot. “He made the choice, and he left, on his own, like he always does. He wasn’t murdered, or kidnapped, he left…”

 

“Alicia, you’re not a mother, you don’t understand..”

 

“You’re right. I’m not a mother, but i do know my mother has barely looked me in the eyes since the day Nick left. You act like you didn’t know he was going to leave, like you didn’t know he wanted to come to San Diego, you thought he was just arbitrarily saying these things, like, if you could just talk him down he’d stay, but he didn’t. He made a choice and he left.”

 

“No, I know,” Madison agrees, looking down at her shoes, ashamed. “I just wish he’d left a note, called me, texted me, dealing with Nick, the not truly knowing….”

 

“He did...he did write,” Alicia says, biting her lip. “He asked me not to say anything…”

 

“Alicia? Alicia, what do you know?!”

 

Alicia takes a breath, running his fingers through her hair. “He’s happy, for once in his life, he’s happy.”

 

“You know where he is?!” Madison demands, hurrying forward, grabbing her daughter’s shoulders. “Where?”

 

She looks around, her eyes circling to the ranch around them, and Madison all but proclaims that she knew it, all along. “He thought he was ready to talk to you, but he texted me on the way here and said he couldn’t, and left, so I don't know where he is now, but this is where he lives. He’s happy. He has a chicken, Sandy, that sits on his shoulders when he does yard work. He’s clean, mom, he’s happy here.”

 

“You’ve known all this time, and you didn’t say anything..?”

 

“He told me not to!” she shouts. “I told him what you were going through and he said not to tell you, so I didn’t, I respected his choice.”

 

Madison stepped back as if struck looking to the dirt beneath her feet, something coming to her mind. “Does he…? Does he blame me? For his addiction? Does he blame me?”

 

“...not directly,” Alicia answers, looking away. “But, I mean, come on, mom, you weren’t exactly mother of the year when dad was sick, and even after he passed you withdrew more from us, and when it came to Nick….we’re not the perfect family, but a part of me hoped that without Nick around you’d finally notice you had another kid. One who got into Berkeley, and is dating an amazing guy and he’s asked me to move to San Diego with him after I graduate and all you did was talk about Nick and all I wanted to do was scream.”

 

“Alicia…” 

 

“Don’t blame me. Don’t blame Jake. Don’t blame anyone for this, but yourself,” she tells her, thrusting a folded up envelope at her, waiting for Madison to close her fingers around it before stomping off.

 

Madison goes to her own cabin, robotic, entering, sitting on the bed, Travis looking up in concern. She opens the envelope, steeling herself before pulling out the folded notebook paper with in.

 

_ Licia, _

 

_ I just wanted to let you know I made it to San Diego, it’s definitely not LA. I’d text you, but i’m changing my number soon, so that’d be kind of moot. I know, by now, mom has probably gone to Sunrise, figured out I left, and is probably freaking out, but, do me a favor? Don’t tell her where I am? _

 

_ I’ll only be here for another night, Troy and I are heading down to the ranch in the morning. He says I have to contribute, or he’ll kick my ass out. Loving, isn’t he? _

 

_ I’m not sure what ranch living is going to be like. I confess, the first night here in SD I fell off the wagon, hard. I mean, I’m basically a target for drug dealers, and one guy approached me within seconds of getting off the train, gave me the shit line about the first one being free. I tried, Licia, tried telling him I was clean now, kicked the shit...he was persistent and I caved...it was just once but I think the way Troy acted, told me I was going to be okay here. _

 

_ He really helped me, when I came down, kicked my ass, really. _

 

_ Man, I’m sorry for the shit I’ve put you through, Licia, really, I am….I just don’t know what to do anymore except make a clean break. Might send you another letter after this, don’t know, haven’t decided, but just wanted you to know I’m okay. I’m a big boy, and I’ll be okay. _

 

_ -Nick _

 

Madison crumpled the paper, holding it to her chest, and let the tears fall that she’d been holding back for so long.

 

-

 

Come morning, Madison is just broken, done. She ‘committed suicide’ opting out of the game the night before, but word says Alicia and Chris had fun with it; Alicia ended up winning, being the only one surviving the whole night.

 

She’s not expecting anything, not anymore, she’s definitely not expecting Nick to walk into her cabin, a white bird on his shoulder, orange spots peppering her feathers. “Nick…”

 

“Hey, mom.”

 

He looks good. Clean. The bags under his eyes are gone, his hair is shorter, trimmed, his nails look healthy, his arms scarred, but otherwise untouched, even his physique looks more filled out. He looks good, all because he cut her out. It selfish of him, and she can’t stop herself from slapping him, making the chicken perched on his shoulder squak it’s anger.

 

“Guess I deserve that.”

 

“You thought it was better I thought you dead then to just telling me..and you had Troy cover this up? What about the police I had looking for you…?”

 

“Yeah, they found me,” Nick admits with a raise of his shoulder. “I told them the deal, what was happening, and they had no responsibility to really call you, since I already changed my emergency contact. Troy...he choose to say he didn’t know me on his own. He got where I was coming from so…”

 

“Do you know what you’ve put me through, Nicholas? All these years..?”

 

“That’s the thing, mom, it always comes back to what  _ you _ been put through, and it feels like you’ve always done what  _ you _ thought was best. Fuck what the rest of us think…”

 

“The things I do, I did, I did for us, Nick, you, me, and Alicia, our family.”

 

“No...not for me..” he bites out, tapping his chicken on the head, and the thing leans into the touch, like a cat for affection; she wants to throw something at it. “You would have been more than happy to chain me to my bed if it kept me from San Diego, from Troy. I’m an adult, and i made an adult decision. I have a life here, a house, a job, a chicken and a dog, and I’m happy here, this is where I want to be.”

 

“Nick, you may think you’re happy but I..”

 

“There it is again, the  _ I _ word,” Nick shouts, startling his chicken. “This is not about you, or your choices, this is about me and my choices and staying here with my husband.”

 

Madison tries to formulate a response. Her mind supplies only one word: husband. When she glances down, sure enough, there’s a gold band around Nick’s finger, a beacon out at foggy sea. “Husband….you’re not gay..you’re..”

 

“...and there you go tell me what I’m not again. I’m sorry that the cookie cutter broke when you had me, mom, really, I am, but I’m done. You may not think you’ve done anything wrong, you may see yourself as a savior, but you’re not. This all comes down to choices and I’m choosing not to talk to you, mom. I’m making the choice not to come to Christmas dinner, or Easter brunch, because it’s about me, not you.”

 

She was angry, enraged, incensed for her son to be so ungrateful for everything she’d done for him. She’d given him life, fed him, changed him, been there at the hospital for him, and this was what she got in return?

 

She tried to find the words, but before she could, he was gone, walking out the door. She ran after him, watching as he ran off down the fields, running towards a gate that led towards pins of pigs, raised for slaughter, no doubt. She watched him from afar, watched as he laughed with whoever that was that helped him, watched as he slopped the pigs as if he did it everyday and he did. He did do this everyday.

 

He slopped pigs, and collected eggs, and took horses out to pasture, and whatever else farm life included. This wasn’t her son. This was someone else, a stranger, not the little boy that had held his chubby arms out to her, crying to be held when she was attempting to balance Alicia. This wasn’t the boy wearing a to big Dodgers cap, attempting to catch a ball with Steven. This was a stranger, a stranger taken from her by someone else.

 

If she were a lesser person, a more evil one, she would probably swing the metaphorical hammer at Troy’s head just to be rid of him forever.

 

This version of Nick wasn’t her son.

 

Not anymore.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Are you guys still with me? Did you enjoy it? Leave me a kudo or comment if you'd like to see more? And even if you'd like to see more of the haunted ranch idea, I'm open to it!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. All comments and kudos are super appreciated!


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